Page 9 of To Wed a Wild Scot
Juliana’s breath left her lungs in a sudden whoosh. There was no reason for her to think anything was amiss—they were only letters, after all—but for some reason the sight of that packet made every muscle in her body tense.
She rose to her tiptoes and squinted through the glass to get a better look at it, but the girl held the packet tucked against her side. She made no move to hand it over, and Juliana let out an impatient huff as the girl continued to stand there, talking and fluttering her eyelashes at the man.
For his part, he seemed in no hurry to send her away. Juliana could hear a teasing note in his deep voice when he spoke to her, and when her gaze moved to his face she saw he was grinning.
Juliana rolled her eyes. For pity’s sake, must they flirtnow, when she was dying of curiosity to get a look at those letters? It was excessively tedious of them.
Finally, just when Juliana was ready to leap through the window and grab the packet herself the girl stepped forward, dropped the letters onto the table, and with a final playful flick of her skirts, left the room.
He turned his attention to the packet then, but just as he was about to take it up he paused, an odd, frozen look on his face as he stared down at it. Before Juliana could tell what that look meant, he reached for the packet, plucked one of the letters from the stack, and dropped the rest back onto the table.
Juliana’s eyes widened.
Cream-colored paper, red sealing wax, and across the front, her handwriting…
It was the last letter she’d written to Fitzwilliam, right before she left Surrey for Scotland.
Relief washed over Juliana. He hadn’t been ignoring her, then. He simply hadn’t received the letter yet. It didn’t explain why he hadn’t answered the others, but—
But she soon had that explanation, as well.
Juliana watched through the window as the man broke the seal, opened a letter clearlynotaddressed to him, and as cool as you please, read the entire thing.
Howdarehe? Her mouth fell open, and she was seconds away from banging on the window when the man rose with her letter in his hand, and…
Juliana gasped.
Tossed it into the fire.
Then he snatched up the rest of the letters, shoved them into his coat pocket, and left the room.
Juliana remained outside the window for long moments, her hands clenched into fists, unable to stir a step. She could hardly believe what she’d just seen.
He’d burned her letter! Why, the man was a thief, a scoundrel, and a blackguard! Tears of rage filled her eyes, but she blinked them away and ran back toward the inn yard. She was intent on finding Stokes at once, but when she rounded the side of the building, she was obliged to duck back out of sight again.
The letter-thief was standing just on the other side, the inn proprietor with him.
“A favor, if you would, Fergus,” the man murmured, so low Juliana had to strain to hear him.
“Aye, Logan. What can I do?”
Logan.So that was the scoundrel’s name.
He led the older man away from the knot of people bustling about the entrance to the inn, closer to where Juliana was pressed against the side of the building.
“A lady may come here, asking for the way to Castle Kinross. See to it she doesn’t find it.”
An indignant hiss rose to Juliana’s lips, and she had to slap her hand over her mouth to smother it.
“What sort of lady?” Fergus asked.
“English, and grand, most likely. I’ve no idea what she looks like, but I guess you’ll recognize her easily enough. It’s not as if there’s dozens of aristocratic English ladies hanging about the Sassy Lassie.”
“No, thank the Lord fer it. Those sorts are more trouble than they’re worth.” There was a pause, then the older man asked, “Problem with your duke, is there?”
Your duke…
He could only mean the Duke of Blackmore. Fitzwilliam was at Castle Kinross even now, and this hateful Logan was trying to keep her from seeing him!
